Fall La La In Love
by the-effin-mitchell
Summary: Holiday/Christmas prompts. Bechloe. Merry Pitchmas everyone! Find me on tumblr: the-effin-mitchell
1. The Greatest Gift

**A/N: Holiday/Christmas prompts and one-shots. Find me on tumblr: the-effin-mitchell**

 **Prompt: 'I did that thing where I put your present inside a box, inside a bunch of other boxes and now you're getting really mad'**

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 **The Greatest Gift**

When Beca opens the first box, she'll admit that the sentiment is sweet, if not silly and a tad cliche - but yeah, _okay_ , you got her, cuz who _doesn't_ fall for the whole 'present inside another present' gag anyhow?

When she opens the second and third, it's still relatively amusing; by the fourth and fifth, however, it's starting to get old, and on the sixth and seventh box, she can feel her already microscopic patience begin to wear thin. On the eighth box, she's borderline pissed, exasperated by the mess of cardboard and wrapping paper that now litters their floor. But it's Christmas morning, she tells herself, and the way Chloe bites her lip in nervous anticipation is enough to give her pause, and make her take a mental step back before she implodes with aggravation.

' _Breathe, Mitchell,'_ she reminds herself, ' _Just breathe.'_

Inhaling, she holds the breath for several seconds, counting slowly to five before exhaling her frustrations in a long, breathy sigh. Flashing the anxious redhead a playful grin, Beca picks up the ninth box and tears off the wrapping paper of reindeer print and dancing snowmen, discarding it with the others already taking up residence on their hardwood.

Giving it a shake, she teases, "I wonder what this could be? Another box perhaps?"

Chloe's lips twitch, but she gives no verbal response, instead nodding her head to indicate that Beca should keep going.

Rolling her eyes, the DJ slips off the lid, fully prepared to be met with yet _another_ box. To her surprise (and great relief) she finds not a box, but a simple envelope with the words ' _To: Mom_ ' written in Chloe's careful handwriting.

"Uhh…?" Her brows furrow together, confusion evident in her voice as she lifts the envelope and flips it over for her wife to see, noting the slight weight of whatever lay hidden inside. "I think you might have mixed up your gifts."

The older woman only shakes her head. "Open it."

"What?" And now Beca is _really_ confused. "But it says _mom_..."

"Just do it," she insists, urging the brunette to do as she says. Chloe watches on with bated breath, lower lip tucked between her teeth as she chews restlessly at the supple flesh. She bounces eagerly, rocking from side to side in anticipation as Beca turns the envelope upside down, letting its unknown content spill out into her hand.

"Chloe, what? What is-...?" Beca rolls the object in her hand, just a rectangular piece of plastic; she eyes the item, apprehensive of its purpose as she brings it closer for a better look. It only takes her about two seconds to realize what it is, but a full minute to process, and even longer to take action.

"Beca?" Chloe ventures hesitantly, as she stares at her wife, who is now frozen still. "Beca?" she tries again, laying a tentative hand on the other's shoulder.

"Chloe," Beca begins quietly, as if unsure of her own voice, "is this… is this what I think it is?"

"That depends," Chloe half-jokes in response, "on what you think _you think_ it is."

"No, be straight with me," she says, almost pleading in tone. "Is this… are you…?" Realizing that they've had enough games for one day, she nods, and Beca's hands fly to her mouth, capturing the gasp that flies loosely from her lips.

"I'm pregnant," Chloe confirms, and she barely has a second's notice before she's being swept up into ecstatic arms, engulfing her in a crushing embrace that she readily returns. The familiar sting of tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, and once she starts, she knows she won't stop; Chloe buries her face against the younger woman's shoulder, stemming their flow momentarily as she basks in the radiant glow of such a joyful occasion.

"Pregnant," Beca breathes, her own eyes blotchy and red as she pulls back, peppering the redhead's face in a shower of kisses. Rarely is she the one to initiate such overt acts of affection, but she can barely contain herself, so overcome with elation that she is. "God, I love you," she murmurs between breathes, their lips connecting at the seams as she pulls her wife's mouth against her own.

Chloe smiles into the kiss, releasing a happy sigh of, "I love you too."

Later that night, as they curl up for bed, Beca stares and watches in rapt adoration as Chloe sleeps, tenderly brushing a stray wisp of hair that hangs lazily over her eye. Her lips are curled, cheeks numb from smiling so much; their life had been a long journey leading up to this point, and thinking of what's to come, it'll be longer still. It had taken two years of IVF, thousands of dollars, and nine boxes fashioned after the infamous Russian nesting dolls to get to where they are now, but it was worth it. It was _all_ worth it; she knows this now.

And as Beca's own eyes flutter shut, succumbing to exhaustion and excitement of the day, she can't help but think that she's been granted the greatest gift she never thought she'd receive…

 _A family._


	2. Wrong Moves, Right Motivation

**Prompt: the Bellas go ice skating and beca doesn't know how so Chloe teaches her :))**

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 **Wrong Moves, Right Motivation**

"Sooo, I guess you really _were_ telling the truth when you said you couldn't skate…"

Beca glares, lips twisted into a scowl as she nurses her elbow, rubbing a gloved hand over what will be one of many bruises to come. Chloe stands over her, mouth curled into a sheepish grin as she stares down at the fallen Bella, who is less than pleased with their current predicament. Waving off a concerned Emily, who hovers in the background like an eager puppy, the redhead bends over and gently grasps the DJ beneath the arms.

"Here, let me help you," she says, heaving upwards. Beca yelps at the sudden ascent, legs churning beneath her as she struggles to find some form of footing. Unfortunately, the combination of ice and metal blades provide zero to no friction, serving only to throw her off her feet once more.

"I hate you," Beca groans, as she's sandwiched between the cold, unforgiving ice, and Chloe, who topples haphazardly over her.

"Aw, Becs," she whines, rolling slowly off the smaller captain. "You don't mean that!"

Beca's cheek twitches, but she sighs and relents, massaging her now aching head as she begrudgingly replies, "Fine, I don't _hate_ you. I just really, _really_ don't like you right now."

Chloe perks immediately. "I can live with that," she declares, pushing herself onto her feet before once more attempting to get Beca to stand. "Okay, I'm going to help you up again. But this time, I want you to plant your feet shoulder width apart, and just use your legs to push up - like we're doing squats."

"Ice skating _and_ exercise," Beca remarks bitterly, as she carefully does as instructed. "This day just keeps getting better and better…"

The older senior gives a soft 'tsk!' of disapproval, but refrains from giving Beca's arm a reproachful smack, if only for fear of knocking her down a third time. "Don't be such a grump," she admonishes, steadying the brunette as she wobbles dangerously. "It's really not that bad if you give it a proper chance. You just need to gain your balance and find a rhythm - from there, it's easy!"

"It's stupid is what it is," the younger woman grumbles, releasing herself from Chloe's grip as she tries to leave the rink. She walks carefully, placing one foot in front of the other, slowly easing her way towards the side of the pond. Beca makes it about two yards before an over zealous boy races by, narrowly clipping her side as he zooms off, gone just as suddenly as he'd appeared.

Chloe winces, cringing as she watches Beca fall. "... you really suck at this," she admits, gliding over to once again offer her assistance.

"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," she mumbles in response, voice muffled against the ice. ' _Face, meet ground. Ground, meet face...'_

Beca doesn't budge, opting to lie flat atop the frozen surface rather than risk life and limb over a silly, frivolous activity such as ice skating. She decides to wait there till spring, when the ice will melt, and she can just swim her way to shore. At least _that_ she knows she can do.

"Oh my god, _get up_!" Chloe exclaims, exasperated with her lack of effort.

"No, I don't want to do this anymore," she grumbles, pouting petulantly like a child. "I tried, and I suck… isn't that enough?"

The ginger sighs, warm breath fogging in the cold. "Beca, c'mon," she pleads, skating lazily in circles around her. "You don't suck, okay? You just need practice and…" She breaks suddenly, a mischievous grin spreading slowly across her lips as an idea comes to mind. "... maybe you just need the right _motivation_ to get you started."

This statement is just enough to Beca pause, her head lifting momentarily so as to get a better look at the other woman. "What kind of motivation…?" she ventures carefully, curious to Chloe's methods.

Chloe winks and blows her a kiss. "Why don't you come over here and find out?"

"Why don't _you_ come _here_ and just show me," she argues, even as she stands gingerly, body wavering with effort to remain still.

"You gotta work for what you want, Mitchell," Chloe teases, skating backwards and away from her. Tossing another wink, and blowing a second kiss, she issues her challenge from across the frozen rink, "If you want me, Beca Mitchell, then come and get me!"

Beca, despite herself, laughs at their game and nods her acceptance. "All right, Beale… you're on!"


	3. No Place I'd Rather Be

**Prompt: We got snowed in a cabin?**

 **Find me on tumblr: the-effin-mitchell**

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 **No Place I'd Rather Be**

Four cans of soup. Two cans of beans. A loaf of bread. Half a sack of rice.

Beca stares at their pitiful excuse of sustenance, lips pulled tightly in a grimace as she contemplates the probability of survival. Considering the soup is of the 'diet' variety, and several slices of bread are spotted with green (and thus, relatively inedible), she estimates they have three days - _four_ if they eat around the mold - before they're forced to take drastic measures.

From the corner of her periphery, she watches as Chloe bustles around the kitchen, opening cabinets and rummaging through the barren pantry in search of extra provisions. A simple errand to check on the integrity of her father's vacation lodge, which the Bellas would be borrowing for a holiday get-together the following week, had turned into an extended visit when the weather outside morphed from a light dusting of snow into a full blown blizzard. With their car buried beneath two feet of slush, and the roads iced over, it quickly dawned on the two captains that they would have no other choice but to wait it out. And, with the winter climate as fickle as it was, who knew how long they'd be stuck?

If it comes down to it, Beca thinks she could probably resort to cannibalism. Chloe has nice arms, after all - well toned, with just the barest hint of flab - and human flesh is supposed to taste eerily similar to pork. Or, so she's _heard…_ (not that she'd actually know)

But, she's getting ahead of herself, she muses, and the entire storm could blow over by morning. Though, with her luck in mind, she thinks it'll be at least a day or two before they can safely get moving. Resigning herself to her apparent fate, Beca casts a withering glare at their meager food supply and heads towards the door, bundling up in her jacket and throwing on her hood.

"I'll be back," she says, hand lingering upon the door as she braces for the impending cold. "Don't follow me," she adds as an afterthought.

There's a loud bang, followed by a yelp as Chloe, who is neck deep in the lower cabinet by the sink, jerks upwards in surprise. "Wait, what?" comes her startled cry, hand on her head as she backpedals. "Beca, where are you-..."

Yanking the door, Beca opens it just enough to slip through before slamming it solidly behind her, wanting to keep what little warmth they had inside from escaping. Crossing her arms to conserve body heat, she trudges her way towards the back of the cabin, ignoring the questioning looks and frantic waves that Chloe sends her through the windows. Ducking her head, the DJ grimaces as she's pelted across the face, cheeks quickly numbing in the frigid gusts.

When she reaches her intended destination, she kicks her feet through the snow, sweeping it all to the side as she searches for the door to the cellar. It takes a good minute or two to find, but when the toe of her boot hits something solid, she knows she's struck gold. Dropping to her knees, she bites off her gloves and quickly spins the combination on the lock, fingers shaking as she undoes the latch and throws it open.

Descending quickly into the small, underground room, she fumbles blindly for the switch and sighs audibly with relief as the lights flicker on. Although her father's cabin is linked to the main power grid, the connection is often unreliable in poor weather, and she knows from previous experience that at any moment, they were in danger of losing it. The backup generator would be their only source of electricity if the power were to go out, and with the temperature as low as it is, Beca understands the importance of keeping it on.

As much as she likes to rag on her dad for leaving her and her mom, the college professor had done an impeccable job at instilling a sense of independence in his daughter, and had taken plenty of measures in order to give her the skills and tools necessary to take care of herself. Beca was by no means an engineer, but she knew her way around the mechanics of a car and other household appliances; working a generator was child's play, and she knows she can make any repairs needed, so long as they have the spare parts lying around.

Fortunately, it isn't necessary, and the generator roars to life as she gives it a brief test run. Beca keeps it on for a few extra minutes, giving the parts a chance to warm up after such a lengthy stretch of disuse, and pilfers through the storage shelves, searching for any additional food. By some outlandish stroke of luck, the brunette finds a _whole case_ of beans, and an unopened bottle of rum; and though she wonders _why_ her father finds it necessary to have so many cans of beans (seriously, who needs a _twelve pack_ of kidney beans!?), she isn't about to jinx herself. Thankful to find nourishment, alcohol, and a working generator, Beca leaves the cellar, feeling much better about their situation going out than she did going in.

"Becs, what the hell? Where did you go?" She's met with at the door with a fierce hug, followed by a smack to the arm and a scolding as Chloe berates her for wandering off. "I can't believe you just left me like that!"

"Dude, chill," she says, cringing as she's given a second slap. Kicking off her boots, she carries the cans of food and booze and settles them onto the kitchen counter. "Why are you so worked up? I was gone for like ten minutes."

"Beca, all you said was, 'I'll be back', and then you walked straight into a snowstorm! Who the _hell_ does that?" Chloe exclaims, face painted in incredulity. "Who do you think you are - the _Terminator_? 'I'll be back'... I'll be back when? Be back from where? I seriously had no idea what you were doing, or where you were going - let alone if you'd even come back. For all I know, you could have frozen to death!"

The younger Bella scoffs, eyes rolling with exasperation, even as her lips twitch into their familiar smirk. "Well, I'm back, and all is well. Sooo…" Beca lets the rest of her sentence trail off, finishing the sentiment with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

Chloe isn't particularly pleased by the response, but relents in favor of helping the younger woman shuck off her thick outer coat. "Fine. But just… just don't do that again, okay?" she murmurs, hanging the jacket on a chair to dry. "This weather is unpredictable, and we're so disconnected from the rest of the world right now… I couldn't stand it if something terrible were to happen to you…"

Beca softens beneath the pleading gaze, nodding mutely as she allows the redhead to rub warmth and feeling back into her arms. A small smile tugs at her lips, and she watches fondly as Chloe clasps her hands between her own, massaging her stiff fingers as she breathes hot puffs of air to speed along the process. Her body practically lights itself on fire when, moments later, the older senior presses a tender kiss against her knuckles before releasing them, and she's quick to shove her hands into her pockets to "keep them warm".

Hiding her awkward discomfort behind a cough, Beca clears her throat loudly and side steps the ginger, shuffling her way towards the fireplace to get one going. Luckily, the cabin is well stocked with wood, and as she sets the logs in the hearth, she instructs Chloe to gather all the blankets she can find.

"We'll sleep in here," she explains, reaching for the box of matches sat atop the mantle. "The power isn't exactly reliable, and I don't want to depend too much on the backup in case of emergency. The fire will be enough to keep the front room and kitchen warm, so we don't have to rely too heavily on the heating. We have sleeping bags in the bedroom, and spare blankets in the closet… you can take the couch, and I'll take the floor."

"Technically, this is kind of 'your' house," Chloe argues, as she works her way into the cabin's single bedroom. "You should get the couch."

"Yeah, well by that logic, _you_ are a guest at _my_ house," she replies, fanning the now fledgling flames as she works it into a blaze. "And as a good host, it's only proper I let you have the couch."

"Since when have you cared about what's proper?"

Beca feigns offence. "Since always…"

"Liar," Chloe declares, chucking a pillow at the smaller woman as she returns to the room, arms laden with bedding. "We'll share then," she decides, laying out the blankets. "It's big enough for the both of us, and we can keep each other warm. Besides, it's not as if we haven't slept together before."

Beca has to remind herself that Chloe means it in the most innocent way possible, that they're simply two friends who've shared a bed on several (many) occasions in the past. Even then, it doesn't stop her cheeks from flaring, and she's thankful for the fire's glow that hides her blush, because thoughts (and feelings) like this have become far too common as of late.

"Fine," she grumbles, putting far too much emphasis on the word to be anything but. "Anyway, uh… we've got an old radio hanging around here somewhere. I'm gonna see if I can find it, maybe scrounge up some spare batteries just in case… hopefully then we can find some news on the forecast."

Chloe nods, and the two set about their separate tasks, trying to make their unintended stay just a little more comfortable. Beca eventually finds the radio she's searching for, and after fiddling with the dial for a good five or so minutes, she's able to tune into a weather report. To their relief, the brunt of the storm is said to have passed, and that by mid-morning tomorrow, road crews would have the main highway back in order.

So, maybe they aren't completely stranded after all…

"Oh, thank god," Beca sighs, as she switches it off. "I don't know about you, but I _definitely_ wasn't looking forward to living off canned beans for the next few days."

"Me neither. I never wanted to say anything before, but… you get kind of gassy," Chloe teases, smirking as she dances away from the retaliatory slap. From there, it descends into a playful game of cat and mouse, Beca fighting back her shrieks of glee as she chases the fleeing redhead, skirting around furniture and hopping over chairs.

Eventually, she corners the evasive Bella, and with a triumphant "gotcha!" loops her arms around her. With strength that beguiles her size, Beca lifts the squirming captain and tosses her onto their makeshift bed, falling atop her as Chloe squeals with laughter. Beca buries her face against the crook of her neck, hiding her smug grin as the older woman wraps her own arms around her, engulfing her in warm embrace.

"I'm glad it's you," she confesses, as they lay there entwined, taking a moment to catch their breath.

Beca, confused by the statement, lifts her head and stares curiously down at the woman below her. "You're glad it's me what?" she asks, brows furrowed with confusion.

"If I have to be stuck in a cabin, in the middle of winter, with nowhere to go," Chloe explains, hands toying with long, brown curls, "I'm glad I'm stuck with you… maybe even a little grateful."

"Grateful?"

She nods, smiling gently at the way Beca subconsciously leans into her touch. "You've just been really… checked out lately," she muses, shrugging somewhat unsurely. "It's like I never see you anymore, and even when you're _there_ , you're… _not._ So yeah, I guess maybe I'm a little grateful that you're here with me now."

Chloe chews her lip thoughtfully, before adding quietly, "I've missed you…"

Guilt swells in her chest, a physical ache that clenches at her heart; it's nearly three months into her internship, and Beca thinks that maybe she's been so scared of somehow disappointing Chloe, she never realized that that was what she was doing all along. Which is stupid, she now understands, because even as stressed as the redhead is, as much as she worries over Worlds, DSM, and Russian Lit, she's still inherently _Chloe_ , and Chloe would never resent her for pursuing her dreams.

"I'm such an idiot," she breathes, chuckling at the way it makes Chloe's head quirk. "I'll tell you later," she promises, and she means it. They'll have plenty to talk about on the car ride back, but for now, Beca wants to enjoy this brief reprieve; this moment frozen in time; a wintery night, cuddled before the fire with her best friend (and the girl she's not quite ready to admit she might love), without all the pressures of the outside world bearing down on their shoulders.

"But I'm glad it's me too," Beca grins.

Because there's no other place she'd rather be than _here_.


End file.
